


Worried Sick

by theonewhohums



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Sick Character, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 22:39:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8686051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theonewhohums/pseuds/theonewhohums
Summary: Maka has to go on a mission without Soul, who has the stomach flu. Needless to say, Soul is NOT happy.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I've decided to transfer all of my fics over to ao3, so this is a test run! If the formatting looks all wonky, know that I am trying my best to fix it and maybe pulling my hair out a little.

Maka enters the apartment to hear the sound of Soul retching in the bathroom. She sighs and takes off her coat, brushing raindrops out of her hair. She _told_ him to get the flu vaccination. Maka still can’t understand how a boy who can transform himself into a demon scythe could possibly be afraid of needles. She leaves her things by the door, kicking her rain boots off and padding down the hallway to their tiny bathroom, where Soul sits on the floor with the door open.

Her boyfriend looks absolutely miserable, slumped over the toilet and panting. She walks over to the sink without speaking, pulling a small paper cup from their cabinet and filling it with water from the faucet. She sits next to Soul on the floor and offers the water.

"Drink a little. You’re going to get dehydrated from all that throwing up.” He accepts the cup without speaking, taking tiny sips as he stares at the white porcelain bowl. He looks so paler than normal, and Maka can’t help but wonder if he has a fever as well. She wishes she would have known how sick he was earlier. She would have skipped her last class to come home and take care of him. “How are you feeling?”

Soul shakes his head and turns to look at his meister. “Just peachy.” He can’t even muster the proper amount of energy to sound sarcastic, and his defeated tone makes Maka feel worse for him. She stands up and offers him a hand to get to his feet.

“You need to get to bed. You look close to passing out.”

Soul scoffs at her statement as he accepts her help. She pulls him to his feet, but he stumbles a bit. Maka isn’t sure Soul would have remained upright if her other hand wasn’t there to steady him. She stares up at him and waits for his eyes to refocus. They finally do, and red eyes meet her green ones as he sighs.

“Please don’t say ‘I told you so.’”

She doesn’t.

.

.

.

Maka gets off of the phone later that night and walks into Soul’s room, where the sick scythe has been forced to stay all day. There’s a waste basket next to his bed in case he needs to get sick again, though his stomach has settled some since Maka found him on the tiled floor of the bathroom earlier this afternoon. As it turns out, he did have a fever though, and there’s a wet washrag on his nightstand that Maka had placed on his head, a washrag that should still be on his head now, in fact.

“Why did you take this off?” Maka asks him, exasperated. She points her finger to the blue rag and places a hand on her hip.

“You did a terrible job wringing it out. I was getting water all over my face,” Soul says tiredly.

Maka sighs and wrings the damn thing out over his small garbage can. She stares at the water dripping from it as she speaks. “Kid just called. I have to leave you alone tonight. Got a mission. I should be back by tomorrow afternoon, though, so you only need to make one meal for yourself before I’m back.” She tries to say it in the most nonchalant way possible so as not to worry Soul, but when was the last time Soul didn’t worry?

“What?” He shoots out from under his covers and tries to get out of bed. He doesn’t get that far, because Maka’s already there with a hand on his chest and slowly pushes him back down. “Maka, you can’t go on a mission without me! What if you get hurt? You need someone there to protect you! You can’t go on a mission without a weapon!”

He’s practically shouting now, and Maka shushes him gently and pulls the covers back over him. “Down, boy. I’m just going to California with Black Star and Tsubaki. They need my Soul Perception to help them find some mob boss they’ve been tracking for a while. And while your desire to protect me certainly is endearing, I can take care of myself. I shouldn’t be involved in any of the fighting, but if something happens, I know enough hand-to-hand to be okay for a mission like this. I’ll be fine.”

Soul pouts at her response as she makes him lay back down. “It’s my job to protect you.”

She kisses his forehead, noting that it’s still far too warm. “And it’s my job to do the same. You’re sick, Soul. I don’t need you getting worse because you’re trying to work through your illness. Do you remember the last time you tried doing that?” Soul avoids making eye contact. “Because I do. Your fever was so bad that you changed out of weapon form in the middle of battle and almost got yourself killed. And then you threw up on me.”

“You said you weren’t mad about that anymore,” his voice is small and ashamed.

Maka smiles at him and places the wrung-out cloth back on his burning forehead, brushing his bangs away so they don’t stick to his skin. “I’m not. But that doesn’t mean I want it to happen again.”

She can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s still worried. She weaves her fingers through his and squeezes his hand. “I’ll be okay, Soul. You know that I can handle myself. Just get better for me, okay? I’ll be back before you know it.”

And with that, she leaves his room so she can go pack an overnight bag. Within forty-five minutes, Maka is gone, and Soul is left alone in the apartment, with only his own feverish thoughts to keep him company.

.

.

.

Maka tiptoes through the apartment as quietly as she can, hoping not to wake Soul. The digital clock on their DVD player blinks the time back at her, and Maka tries not to wince in guilt. It’s past midnight already. She hopes Soul isn’t too upset with her from being late, but the ER was more crowded than they had anticipated. There was a long wait for Maka to get stitches.

She scratches the gauze on her arm and pads down the hallway to her room, not even bothering to turn on the light in the hallway, still afraid of waking her partner. She’s about to enter her room when she hears movement from Soul’s room, like he’s walking around. She hears lots of grumbling as well.

She walks over to his bedroom and sees his door is ajar. Through the two inches of space between the door and the frame, Maka watches as her weapon paces back and forth, hands on his head, talking to himself. She can’t help but feel like he’s still awake because of her. Kid told her that Liz would call Soul and tell him that they were going to be late, and from the looks of it, Soul is not happy about it. She opens his door a little bit more, allowing it to squeak.

Soul jumps at the noise, and stops mid-pace to turn and stare into his doorway. Maka gives her boyfriend a small wave. From the light from Soul’s desk lamp she can see the tension leave his body at the sight of her, and just how _relieved_ he looks. His eyes light up, and before Maka can react, Soul’s arms are around her and he’s twirling her around his room.

Once he sets her down, he immediately begins interrogating her. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? The mission lasted longer that you said it would and I’ve been losing my mind waiting for you to come back! Did something happen? Are Tsubaki and Black Star okay?” He finally stops talking to get a good look at her. She’s too shocked at his badgering to answer all of his questions, and before she can get a word out, his eyes fall on the gauze wrapped around her upper arm. “ _You’re hurt._ ”

“Soul, calm down! I’m okay, alright? I’m o-kay,” she says, accenting each syllable of the word slowly. But Soul still looks panicked. “Didn’t Liz tell you we were going to be late?” Soul shakes his head, eyes still on the gauze wound around her arm. She places a hand on his cheek and makes him look at her. “I’m fine. It’s just a couple stitches.”

“Stitches! I told you I should have come. You shouldn’t be going on missions without a weapon. It’s reckless. I don’t even know how Kid cleared you to go on this mission without me—”

She interrupts him. “I got a piece of glass in my arm, Soul. When Tsubaki and Black Star where finishing up, one the grunts tried to distract them by dropping the chandelier in the room. It shattered and piece of glass got stuck in my arm. Once Tsubaki had finished collecting all the souls, they took me to the ER to get stitched up. I didn’t get hurt from being in the battle. I was just standing too close to a light fixture, okay?”

Soul blinks. “A piece of glass?”

Maka nods. “I wasn’t involved in the battle at all. I didn’t want to fight without you there.” Soul flushes a little, and Maka finally takes notice of how much better Soul looks compared to how she left him. His skin is a lot less pale than it was previously, and he doesn’t appear feverish. She puts a hand on his forehead without preamble, and Soul grumbles at how cold her hands are. His skin is cool.

“How are you feeling?”

Soul shrugs. “A lot better now, knowing you’re safe.” Then he looks confused. “Why didn’t you call me yourself to tell me you were going to be late?”

“My phone died and I forgot to pack my charger. Black Star wouldn’t let me use his phone because he was too busy playing Tetris, so I called Kid on my compact mirror and told him to give you a message. Liz _said_ she was going to tell you,” Maka mumbles, clearly irritated.

Soul grimaces. “Well, she didn’t. So I spent the entire day thinking that something terrible happened to you.”

She wraps her arms around Soul’s waist and hugs him for a moment. “But luckily, it didn’t. I’ve made it home almost completely unscathed.” Soul holds her to his chest, being careful not to hurt her arm in the process. Too soon, she pulls away. “I need to go make something to eat. I’m starved. There was no good food in the vending machine at the ER.”

For some reason Soul looks almost sheepish, rubbing the back of his head and looking down at the floor. Maka is about to ask him what’s up when he interrupts her thoughts. “Is it okay if I eat with you? I didn’t end up making any dinner because I was too busy….” He trails off.

“Worrying,” Maka finishes for him. She giggles and grabs his hand to lead him into the kitchen. “What do you want me to make for you?”

“Actually, I’m feeling a lot better. I’ll be willing to cook you something if you make promise me something.”

Maka stops and looks at Soul. “What is it?”

“Don’t ever leave me behind again.”

Today really must have been bad for him, because Soul looks dead serious. To be honest, Maka felt bad too. The entire time that she was watching Tsubaki and Black Star fight, she was itching to join in. She held back, though, because it didn’t feel right to battle without Soul. She felt empty, and she hated feeling like that in a situation where she might have been needed. And the entire time that Maka and her friends sat in the Emergency Room waiting so she could pull the glass shard from her arm, Maka could only think about how if Soul was there he would have been constantly asking if she was in any pain, then trying to make her laugh until she couldn’t remember how much her arm hurt. Instead, Maka had sat in silence while Black Star screamed about his new high score in Tetris and Tsubaki apologized to the irritated patients.

Going on a mission without Soul there was horrible, to say the least. And she could say honestly say that she never wanted to repeat the experience.

She smiles genuinely at Soul, and answers with confidence.

“Deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> (Originally published 10/16/13)


End file.
